Wednesday, July 27, 2011

So, attempts by Christians to pray their way to rulership of the USA piss me off. The current incoming government gives us more reason than ever to be concerned about the matter. Political Christianism is a threat to American liberty, as well as to the personal safety of our citizens.
If folks need to have the why of that explained to them I can. Rather than bothering, I've composed a small countercharm to help disperse the coercive spells of this gang of christian sorcerers. This is a fast draft from inspiration - I know it lacks rhythm, but maybe as a call-and response, with single voices doing the lines and all reciting the repetition it could be cool in performance. Anyway, It conveys my sentiment.

A Charm for Religious Liberty

This is a voice of the people, the people of the United States of America.

In the United States, let no god be master, and let all be free.
Let this be the voice of the Wise, for wisdom is my prayer.

In the United States, let no god be master, and let all be free.
Let the wisdom of the founders bring freedom.

In the United States, let no god be master, and let all be free.
Let the freedom in our spirits be the foundation of the law.

In the United States, let no god be master, and let all be free.
Let our law proclaim that we have no ‘lords’.

In the United States, let no god be master, and let all be free.
May our Ancestors witness our commitment to freedom and justice.

In the United States, let no god be master, and let all be free.
May the Other Kins of North America know our commitment to their well-being.

In the United States, let no god be master, and let all be free.
May the Gods and Goddesses of all peoples know welcome in our nation.

In the United States, let no god be master, and let all be free.
By Sky and by Grain, by Mountain and by Plain, by Liberty and by Justice

In the United States, let no god be master, and let all be free.
From sea to sea, so be it!

Monday, July 18, 2011

Sorry about the long silence here. but once again it's July, and thus festival and travel time for me.

Just got back from Starwood, the fest I helped to found and have helped to organize for the past 31 bleedin' years. I still love it. Like love it, wanna marry it... hell I practically have married it, and we have kids now... Another great year, the second at Wisteria. We're growing in the new site, and all is copacetic.

I have been writing, some, and I have been at the altar, some. But I'm also on the way to a family vacation, returning to hit the ground running for our Grove Lughnassadh gathering here at Tredara. So, I'll get some content up here when I can...

Enjoy your summer...

Oh, and as evidence of some continuing activity, I'll take a big chance and post a tiny bit of the opening of The Novel.

These are the opening paragraphs of what I'm tentatively calling "Lady of the House" a tale of modern Pagan sorcery.

Part 1a: OtherworldThe hills were old around the basins of the great rivers. Scoured low and round by time, they still showed boulder cliffs and steep rills of falling water among the green coat worn by the stones. The spirit of that place was old as well, peaceful now, as a rule, content to dwell in vertical spaces where mortal life had little reach. Mortals might tend the forests and hunt the beasts, might cut through mountains to make their roads, but within the forms of the soil and the green, in the winds that the sun drove between the mountains, in the dew of the bright moon there lived the spirits. Wild essences of the world, sometimes interested in mortals, often indifferent, they went their way while mortal folks went theirs. In past times mortals and the spirits had spoken, the wise among them, and the brave, finding ways to get the attention of the un-material intelligences. Then mortals had worked together with the spirits, and each kept their place in the Dance of Worlds.

In more recent times this commerce had largely ended. Mortals had turned their eyes and hearts from the inner essences of things. In truth the spirits cared little, though those who had kept the Old Ways before became confused, or dismayed, and some even became angry. In a country filled with mines and boats and the work of hammers it is never wise to anger the spirits. The spirits toyed with mortals or ignored them, and mortals praised their ‘God’ for good luck or complained of bad.

But in places of power, where the voice of the spirits might be stronger, and in certain families, or in ways taught from teacher to student, the commerce with the spirits continued. There in the hills by the big river there were a few places where humans came together, and by their skill made themselves seen and heard by the spirits. Most especially there was the Fortress of the Seer. It was the only mortal place in the region that had a name among the spirits, and there the mortals had the longest history of traffic with them since the Old People disappeared.

Now an idea was spreading among the spirits, as it does, that new mortals were returning to the Seer’s Rath. The bloodline of the Seer was known to the spirits, and even far at the edge of their places they watched that lineage. Even far away they had been present at the sacrifices, made offerings even as young children, and so they were known to the spirits. Now those children were returning to the Vale and the Fortress, and the spirits were interested.

A wild, strong spirit of air and night chose to find them and follow them as they came near the river. His eyes would be the eyes of the clan, and the Queen would know what he knew. As he drew near to the children in their car, he took on a more material form, wings and sharp eye as he swept around and before them as they went.

About Me

I'm a Neopagan of the Druidic sort, interested in Celtic polytheism as it might manifest for modern people in North America. I'm also an occultist, broadly interested in arcane and magical systems and ideas, from medieval grimoires through Hindu Tantra and Asian shamanism to Thelema and Chaos Magic. I'm a fan of the folk music of the British Isles and its modern inheritors as well as of fantasy and horror lit, especially the work and legacy of HP Lovecraft.